


Hungry Hungry Hitman

by snailboat64



Category: Human Target - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-12
Updated: 2010-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snailboat64/pseuds/snailboat64
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. The team watching Guerrero eat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry Hungry Hitman

“Does he always eat like that?” Ilsa asked, wrinkling her nose at the sight of Guerrero picking over yet another carton of cold Chinese takeout.

“Like what?” Chance asked.

“Like a human garbage disposal?” Winston suggested, pausing on his way past the kitchen door.

“Like a hobo who found the trashcan of his dreams?” Ames added as she joined her colleagues in the doorway, eager not to be left out.

Ilsa stood hypnotised by Guerrero’s steady progress through a second cartoon of Chow Mein that she knew for a fact had been sitting in the refrigerator for at least three days.

“Does he ever eat fresh food?” She said eventually. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him eat a hot meal.”

“I saw him eat a hotdog from a vendor once.” Ames said. “but now I come to think about it, he didn’t eat it right away so it was probably cold.”

“And how can he eat so much and be so… compact?” Self preservation and good breeding prevented her from saying ‘short’ or ‘scrawny’ but her tone conveyed her meaning anyway.

“He’s got a fast metabolism.” Chance shrugged.

“I’m sure that can’t be healthy.” Ilsa said.

“No, but his eating habits don’t seem to slow him down at all.” Winston said sighing. “And don’t think labelling your food with your name will deter him either. The only way to keep your lunch safe is to eat it before you get here.”

Winston left them to their contemplation of Guerrero’s eating habits and retreated to the office.

“I left a tub of homemade avocado face pack in there once.” Ames said.

“And he ate it?” Asked Ilsa, appalled at the thought.

“Yep.”

“Did you tell him what it was?” She asked.

“Yeah, he just said it was great with chips and asked if it came in any other flavours.”

Chance laughed, making Ames and Ilsa look to him for an explanation.

“Well, that gunk does look like it’s food.” Chance said, defending his friend. “Just ‘cause you were going to stick it on your face instead of doing the rational thing and eating it…”

Chance’s voice trailed away under the glare of his female colleagues. He realised too late that he’d just implied they were irrational.

“Er, never mind.” Chance gave them one of his dazzling little boy smiles but they weren’t buying it. When they kept glaring, the smile slid from his face and the two women went back to observing Guerrero.

“I wonder if some kind of medical might be in order.” Ilsa mused. “Not just for Guerrero but for the whole team. Your work is quite physically demanding. It might be wise to have you all checked out, to make sure you’re all in good health.”

“Guerrero and doctors don’t mix.” Chance said.

“And I don’t think medical science is quite ready to deal with Guerrero.” Ames added.

Guerrero got up, leaving the mess of empty containers behind him.

“Forget it Ilsa.” He said, surprising her with the fact he’d heard the whole conversation. “Doctors generate records and I don’t want to be in any more files than I have to be. Besides,” he said smirking, “I’m fine. There’s definitely nothing wrong with my hearing.”


End file.
